


I bet Captain America smells like freedom.

by Vrika



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Breathplay, Choking, Edgeplay, Face Slapping, Fucking, Heavy BDSM, M/M, Unconsciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-15 21:32:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13039842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vrika/pseuds/Vrika
Summary: CW: Extremely unsafe superhero sex, choking, choking to passing out, slapping, edge playThis started out as a conversation between @millihelenic and myself - I finally finished it. :)





	I bet Captain America smells like freedom.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [millihelenic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/millihelenic/gifts).



I bet Captain America smells like freedom. You know, if freedom smelled like maldon sea salt, maybe toasted cumin mixed with crisp fall apples.

Well, don't really have to bet. I know, and he tastes even better.

I like makin' him lay back, where I don't even tie him up and I just go to town with teeth, with the knife, slicing thru his tshirt and making a mess of his boxers. He shivers as the knife gets close to his groin, too close to that big vein in his thigh. I'm not sure even his super healing could handle if I sliced thru that. I wouldn't. His brain knows that, but now, his body might not remember.

"Don't move, Stevie, or I stop," I say, not wanting him to thrash either. The knife is paused, slicing thru the waistband of his boxers. Its so sharp, I can see that threads are seperating. If we stay still long enough, the cloth will slice itself. I don't really want to wait that long.

He just moans, its been awhile, and he's dropping fast, like can't even talk to me, dropping fast.

"Color, boy?" I snarl.

"Sir, please, green, sir," he says, almost howling, because my knuckles have found the space behind his balls, and I'm pushing, stroking his prostrate from the outside.

Yea, because I"m the only one that gets to see him like this, who takes care of him when he comes back from another situation where there's blood, death, explosions. The only reason he still carries the shield is because Sam isn't ready yet, and I can do this for him.

And I do, I let him fall fast and far and deep as I take him just like that. The super serum is good for a lot of things, and recovering from rough sex is the one we don't tell any of the doctors about. I'll be sweet to him later, but now, he needs to remember he's alive, and safe, and loved. I want him overwhelmed by the taste, the smell, the feel of me. Over him, on him, in him.

I have to admit, this was something I always loved. Stevie didn't like it back when he was small, and couldn't take how rough I wanted it. I had to be sweet to him back then, event tho he'd push himself, tell me, all spit and vinegar and fierceness, "Do it, Bucky, I can take it,"

And sometimes, when he was well enough, I would, that small body, so easy to throw around, the sounds he'd make when I'd push him onto his knees, when I'd fuck his mouth, holding onto the the base of my cock so he couldn't gag on it, but he still had to keep it tight and hot

Slapping him back then wasn't any different from slapping him now. I'd hold his face, so he'd know it was coming, and part of him would flash so angry, his eyes would turn the bluest, but I'd always hold his face, and give him that moment, let him decide to submit, to surrender. 

And he'd nod, barely, perceptibly, his lashes dark and beautiful dropping over those amazing blue eyes, and then, and only then, would I do it. He had to choose it. Choose yes. And I'd slap him, sharp, fingers under the cheekbone, in a way that even if it marked, people would just assume he'd gotten into another fight.

And still, still, that flash of anger, when I'd hold his face, even tho now, he's bigger, and healthier and the bruises fade almost instantly. Even now, when my cock is buried nice and deep in his ass, and he wants it, wants whatever I'm going to give to him.

I pause my hips, my metal hand holding his face, and the other, stilling his hips as he tries to move, and look at him, just silent, still, and paused. I'm turned on, he can see that, and I love him, and he can see that too, but I don't let any want or desire for this particular act show, even tho he knows how much I love it. I just wait for him to tell me, 'yes'.

And now, again, I catch that moment, still, of anger, of hate, of emotions he doesn't allow voice in his eyes for that instant, but then his eyelashes drop over his beautiful eyes, and he nods, barely, imperceptibly and I take my hand off his hip, and slap his face.

The sound echos in the room, silent now but for both of our breathing. He'd stopped his moaning for my cock, and I'd put my teeth together to stay quiet to hear him when I did this.

At the crack, he orgasms, his shudders fluttering through his body, milking my cock in his ass, and I shout, now wrapping my hand around his throat, using my metal one to hold him down as I fuck him, angling to hit his prostate while he's still having that unexpected orgasm.

Now I'm holding off 'cause I want him screaming around my hand, maybe another orgasm, since that super hero serum does make for a negligible refractory period when he's already turned on

And that's what happens, he doest even go soft before he's moaning around my hand on his throat and my cock pounding his ass and all he's saying is "Yes, please, sir, more." and then when he's almost all too sensitive and getting close again, he starts to notice he's not getting enough breath and he starts to moan, "Don't stop fucking me, even if I pass out, I want it, sir, fuck my ass, and cum inside me. Let me wake up sore and dripping,"

I really roared at that, and closed my hand some more and saw his eyes start to flutter, as my angle didnt relent with my cock pummeling his prostate, and he nodded again, letting me choke him out, not fighting it and going limp, loose and completely willing.

I held my hand against his throat as my hips went into overdrive with fucking him, I wanted to cum inside him while he was still out, I wanted him to wake up with me having an orgasm inside of him.

And I did, moaning "Stevie, gods, I love this, I love you," as I thrust once, twice and then held myself releasing into his ass, nice and deep. I let go of his throat as I kept fucking him, screaming at how sensitive I already was but not wanting to stop since MY refractory period was also nothing at all.

"Come, on Stevie,you can cum again, right?" I say, grabbing his cock and jerking him roughly while I keep fucking him.

"Sir, please sir!" and Steve can't even talk more than that, between gasps and the words, Sir, Please, and Yes.

and this is where I need him to be, nothing but feeling me, wanting me, in the moment, and I grab him, flipping us over, so now he's on top, and has to do the work of fucking himself on my cock, and he's just so beautiful, as he's crouched over me, dropping his hips and ass onto my cock and lap, while I'm still jerking him off. He's all muscle and sinew and sweat and grunts of pleasure.

He'll keep going until his muscles are exhausted, he's covered in cum, and dripping sweat, and I'm going to need to force him to drink electrolytes and glucose and protein shakes while I put him in the bathtub to clean off the last of the fight he had come to me to help him forget.

Yea, so Captain America tastes like freedom, and we both deserve a little bit of that.

**Author's Note:**

> So yea, wrote this as some of my final NanoWrimo words. ;)


End file.
